


You Came Home For The Endless Summer

by CattyJay



Series: The Coastal Kids [1]
Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Octaven angst, Sexual Tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-07
Updated: 2016-03-03
Packaged: 2018-05-18 19:25:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 18,175
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5940340
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CattyJay/pseuds/CattyJay
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clarke comes home from a semester at UCLA to Newport Beach to spend three blissful months with her friends and the sand and surf. But her plans soon change when she finds her mother has hired someone to clean their pool during the summer break. And if it was up to those eyes and that smile, it might just be the summer she never forgets. </p><p>Or the “Pool Boy” AU</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Part I

Clarke stretched back on her deckchair, listening to the sound of seagulls and crashing waves. It calmed her. The push and pull of the water across the sand. The peaceful cawing of birds overhead. The summer’s top 40 playing softly on the outdoor sound system. She loved every part of it. Loved the heat, and the sun, and the beach. Not that she knew any different living in LA. She’d never experienced a white Christmas, or snowfall, or the blistering cold. But she never wanted for anything more. More than the sand, and the surf, and the weekend trips to San Monica and Malibu. LA was her home, and it was enough.

The deckchair next to Clarke creaked loudly. But Clarke didn’t open her eyes, keeping them shut against the brilliant bright sunlight.

“Who is  _that?"_  

She knew whom Raven was talking about. She could hear the gentle sound of something breaking the surface of her pool, and the quiet footsteps across sandstone pavers. 

“I think my mom said their name was Alex or something,” Clarke provided, eyes still closed. “They just started last week.”

“And have you said hi yet?” 

“Nope.” 

“Well that’s too bad,” Raven hummed. It was a playful sound, Clarke picturing the smirk pulling at the corner of her best friend’s lips at the presumably shirtless man on the other side of the infinity pool.

“Clarke, I thought you said that your mom got a pool boy?” Octavia gaped, the younger girl laying the other side of Raven. 

“She did.” Shifting higher on her chair, Clarke glanced over at her two friends. They both sported wide expressions, their jaws slightly dropped – Raven holding that smirk Clarke knew would be there.  

Quirking an eyebrow, Clarke shifted her attention to the pool and to the person currently scooping stray leaves off the surface of the water. And Clarke’s mouth went dry.  

The girl couldn’t have been much older than the three of them. 24 at most. And she was gorgeous; her dark hair in long braids down her back, and her skin that perfect sun-kissed colour that only came with spending countless hours at the beach or out in the crashing waves.

“All I said was my mom hired someone to clean our pool,  _you_  were the one that assumed they were of the tiny shorts and ab variety,” Clarke responded, omitting the fact that her eyes were blown wide as well at them being a she.  

A really hot she.  

“Okay, that’s fair,” Octavia shrugged, taking a sip of the cocktail in her hand.  

“I still think O might be right, Griffin.” Raven lowered her sunglasses down the bridge of her nose. “Twenty bucks says she’s got at least a six-pack under that shirt.”  

The girl across the pool wasn’t paying the three of them any mind, crouching down to check the pump near the fence line of the neighbouring house.  

“You’re on, Rey,” Octavia grinned. 

“Raven,” Clarke chastised. She met her with a levelled gaze. “I can see you’re lady boner from here. Don’t make me push you in the pool.”  

“Maybe I’ll just get her to save me then,” Raven practically purred, wiggling her eyebrows. “A little CPR might do me some good. Or you know, if she wants to put those lips anywhere else.”  

“You’re unbelievable, you know that?” Clarke rolled her eyes, slipping her aviators to the top of her head. “Scratch that. Of course you know.”  

“Naww, thanks, babe.” Raven placed a mocking hand to her chest. “You know me so well.”  

Raven let out a chuckle at Clarke’s deadpan expression, bringing her own straw to her lips.

They all settled back into their silence, each lazing on their deckchairs. The midmorning sun was burning across the sandstone pavers, creating brilliant ripples of white light over the surface of the pool. It bordered the lush green hills seamlessly, leading down to the sand and the ocean in the distance. It was beautiful, Clarke never truly over the view from her house, even though she’d lived there most of her life. But that was probably the artist in her, always seeing colours and the textures around her. The lines and shades of the water, and the endless sky.  

She’d chosen to stay with her mother, Abby, during the summer break. The trauma surgeon lived in one of the many gated communities nestled on the hills of Newport that overlooked 180 degrees of pure ocean. Clarke’s apartment wasn’t all that far from Newport Beach, but it was enough of a drive to not want to make it each day to spend time with her friends, all of them coming home for the summer. And now that she was there she was silently thanking her decision, her eyes following the pool girl’s movements across the water.  

“I am so not leaving this spot for the rest of the day,” Raven breathed, a gentle smile playing on her features. 

“Agreed,” Octavia murmured, her eyes closed beneath her Ray Bans. “Clarke, we need a consensus.” 

Clarke merely hummed in response.  

She was now crouched down by the pool’s edge, removing the plastic cover of the filter. Clarke’s eyes flitted over full lips, and tasteful black stretchers that dotted her ears. Her open button up was rolled messily to her elbows, revealing a tight white singlet that clung to her chest, and the lightest sheen of sweat covered her skin.  

Clarke knew she was staring. And she knew she should look away. But subtly and common decency had never been a strong suit. A part of her itched to draw the girl. To commit every detail to paper. Her intricate braids. Her strong jawline. The beginnings of a tattoo that peeked out from under her denim cut-offs, bright watercolours touching the bare skin of her thigh. She knew it was a bad idea. That a girl like  _that_  was a bad idea. She was the epitome her mother’s worse nightmare. 

All that was missing was the motorbike. 

“You are such a perv, Griffin.” 

As soon as the words had left Raven’s lips those kohl-lined eyes flicked up and focused on Clarke across the pool. Clarke flushed and quickly diverted her gaze, but not before she caught the tiny smirk that hinted at the corner of full lips. 

“You okay?” Raven asked innocently, Octavia trying to stifle her laughter. “You’re looking a little flustered.” 

“You’re an asshole,” Clarke replied with an easy smile – she could already feel the flush creeping onto her cheeks.  

“Love you, too,” Raven winked. 

“Do you two want another?” Clarke gestured at their empty drinks.  Raven and Octavia both nodded with matching grins, raising their glasses to her. Clarke just rolled her eyes, before sitting up and taking them from their outstretched hands. She tried to avoid looking over the far side of her pool and to the object of her early staring. 

She wasn’t blushing. 

She wasn’t. 

Clarke began making her way across the hot pavers. She dared a glance over the other side of her terrace; quickly noticing the mystery girl was now nowhere to be seen. 

“Great,” Clarke huffed, stepping through the wide double doors and into the large kitchen. 

The music was quieter inside, carrying over into the indoor speakers as well. With its grand foyer, four bedrooms, three bathrooms, and a double garage, the house was honestly far too big for her mother alone. But Clarke suspected that she’d stayed because of how many memories were there. In the small dent on the second floor banister, and the chipped paint by the kitchen door. The slight char marks etched around the fireplace. All of them were reminders. All of them were Jake Griffin. They were her dad. Every perfect imperfection.  

So Clarke didn’t blame Abby for staying after she’d left for college. And Clarke was far from being the one to dictate how her mother grieved. So she said nothing, a part of her taking comfort in being back in her old room. 

Moving to the large kitchen island, Clarke set the three glasses down on the granite counter, and took the orange juice from the fridge. She began measuring out shots of tequila – a double for Raven – before grabbing the syrup from the top shelf.  

“Excuse me.”  

Clarke jolted in surprise at the soft voice, nearly dropping the syrup.  _“Holy shit.”_  

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.” The girl was looking at her, those eyes watching her curiously as Clarke placed the bottle back on the counter.

“You didn’t?” Clarke jested, trying to will her heart rate to a normal level.

The answering smirk barely ghosted over her lips. “I’m finished for the day. So the pool’s all yours.”  

“Thanks,” Clarke murmured.  

She gave her a short nod. “I’ll be back next Thursday. Same time.”  

Clarke felt a sudden nervousness around her. It buzzed low in her stomach; Clarke meeting her eye. They were a strange mix of light green and grey, the intensity of them spreading the nerves even further. 

Clarke distracted herself from staring again by pushing fresh straws into the cocktails in front of her. The girl turned to leave through the front entrance, but stopped just short of the tall archway to the kitchen. 

“My name is Lexa, by the way. Not Alex.”  

Clarke’s jaw noticeably dropped, the words sinking deep beneath her skin and planting themselves like needles.

 _Oh my god._  

“Have a good day, Clarke.”

And with that she was gone. 

Clarke waited until she heard truck tires screech out of the driveway before allowing herself to breathe.  

* * *

 

Clarke was in her bedroom. Loose drawings and sketches were covering walls and strewn across her comforter. They crunched gently, filling the midmorning air.

Her sketchbook was closed on her dressing table, her summer art project wedged gently between its pages. It had been two weeks. Two weeks that had seen countless road trips and afternoon sailing with her friends. Shopping sprees and lunch dates by the Pier. Two weeks that had seen her avoid starting said project. And two weeks of avoiding Lexa.  

She hadn’t told her friends about their brief run in, steering clear of the subject when she had returned from the kitchen with their drinks. They’d given her curious glances, but merely thanked her and settled back into their comfortable silence, if only breaking it for the occasional teasing.

Clarke felt like a schoolgirl with a crush. A stupid silly crush. She swore she could still feel the heat on her cheeks and the nerves in her stomach that those eyes had brought, knowing that Lexa had most likely heard every single word they’d said about her. Clarke was almost 22. She shouldn’t still be feeling like this. At least not about someone she’d only had fleeting interaction with.  

Clarke was pulled from her thoughts by a constant and incessant honking. 

Shaking her head, she dragged a brush through her blonde hair, before pulling it up into a messy bun. She grabbed her keys and wallet, taking her stairs two at a time to be met with Raven behind the wheel of her red Jeep Wrangler, mashing the middle of the steering wheel with her palm.

“Hurry it up, Griffin,” Raven called through the driver’s side window. “I ain’t got all day.” 

“Yes, you do, Raven.” 

Clarke was met with another loud honk, and Raven’s trademark laughter floating into the morning air. She loved Raven. She was a little shit, but she loved her.

Clarke was just turning her key in the deadlock when Lexa’s truck pulled into the driveway. It slowed to a stop in front of the garage doors, the pavers vibrating beneath her feet as the engine cut out. And Clarke’s stomach dropped. 

Lexa stepped down from her old black Ford Pickup, her attention on Clarke as she walked past. Clarke gave her a tiny smile, those nerves wreaking havoc just underneath her skin. Lexa nodded at her in greeting, before rounding the back of her truck to retrieve her bag from the tray. But in the few seconds that those eyes had been on her, Clarke felt as if they had burned her, warming every inch of her skin.  

 _Get a grip._   

Taking a breath, she hopped into the waiting Jeep, Raven’s eyebrows already raised in a silent question. “Explain.” 

“Excuse me?” Clarke huffed, clipping in her seatbelt. 

“Um, I don’t know, maybe the fact that I can see pool girl’s lady boner from the front seat of my car.”  

“Raven.”  

“You’re words, not mine.” 

Clarke narrowed her eyes at her friend as she straightened up in her seat.

“I’m just saying, that girl wants to do a lot more than clean your damn pool,” Raven quipped as she turned her engine over, the Jeep rumbling to life. 

“You got all that from her nodding at me?” Clarke deadpanned. 

“If by nodding, you mean eye-fucking you. Then yeah, I got all that from a nod.”

“You’re insane,” Clarke mumbled, trying to dampen the heat that Raven’s words were sending to some very inconvenient areas – trying and failing miserably.  

“Not my fault Alex wants to get you wet,” Raven teased, looking over her shoulder as she started backing out of the driveway. 

“Lexa,” Clarke corrected, not looking at Raven.  

“Oh it’s  _Lexa_ now, is it?” Her friend was grinning mischievously, her Jeep hitting the smooth black asphalt of her street. “Did you find that out before or after the hot pool sex?” 

“Shut up and drive,” Clarke muttered with a shove to Raven’s shoulder. Her best friend laughed gleefully, before speeding off down the street.

* * *

 

By the third week Clarke had come to terms with the fact that her silly little crush wasn’t going anywhere.

She was lying face down on her comforter, her fingers gripping a stick of graphite as she attempted to get some work done. But all that seemed to come out were perfect almond eyes, and jawlines, and tattoos, and those sinful lips.

It was utterly frustrating.

She really wasn’t planning on going for a swim, or even leaving her room. She hadn’t made plans with any of her friends, just staying home with her sketchbook and Spotify, her mom away for the rest of the week at a medical conference. 

But when she heard Lexa’s truck pull up, she gripped her sketchbook with both hands, deliberating for a moment before rushing to her closet to get changed. 

She quickly took up her spot on a deckchair by the pool, her pad open to work on her summer project. Raven’s words were going through her head on a constant loop as Lexa came around the side of the house. It was foolish to listen her friend, but she couldn’t get those eyes or those lips far from her mind. And it was frankly hindering her creativity. She was really just thinking of her education.  

Lexa placed her bag down near the garden bed, spotting Clarke lounging by the pool in her bikini, and she swore she saw Lexa falter her step. 

“Good morning, Clarke.”  

“Lexa,” she acknowledged.  

Lexa didn’t waste time, moving to the pool cabinet to retrieve her equipment and began scooping the leaves that were floating on the surface of the water. She was wearing a loose singlet that hung low under her arms, and showed off a cherry blossom tattoo that extended down her right bicep and disappeared underneath her singlet. It was a vibrant pink, with green branches circling her shoulder and weaving through each bloom. Clarke longed to sketch it. It was amazing. 

She had to force her eyes back to her homework, less she be caught staring. Again. 

* * *

“What is that?” 

They’d be silent for the past 10 minutes. 10 minutes that saw Clarke stealing glances, and Lexa continuing to keep her eyes on her task. 

Clarke looked at her over the top of her sketchbook. Lexa’s brow was furrowed. She was looking at something at the bottom of the pool, crouching to get a better look. Clarke smiled to herself. It was a golf ball and one that Lexa couldn’t reach with her net. 

“Oh, that’d be from the Kanes next door,” Clarke provided, her tone somewhat amused. “Marcus likes to see if he can hit them into the ocean from his terrace. As you can see, he’s not that good.” 

Lexa sighed, giving up on using the net to retrieve the offending object. She seemed to evaluate her options, before her gaze locked onto Clarke, or more so her lack of clothing. “Would you?” 

Closing her sketchbook, Clarke sat forward, a teasing smile playing on her lips. 

“I’d really prefer to stay dry, if you don’t mind,” Clarke stated innocently. 

“Of course,” Lexa grumbled. “I suppose that was a long shot.” 

She stood reluctantly and made to pull her white singlet over her head. 

Clarke couldn’t do more than just stare as Lexa continued to slip off her shoes, before pushing her denim cut-offs down her thighs. She was left in her black sports bra and tight boy shorts, looking everywhere except Clarke. And Clarke continued to stare unapologetic, making a metal note to tell Octavia that she owed Raven $20.

Clarke could now see that the cherry blossom tattoo continued down her back into a tree of life. The gnarled and twisted branches formed a Lady Justice with a sword and scales. It disappeared beneath her underwear near her hip, appearing again on her left thigh in the form of an owl. Cherry blossom petals floated around the top of the tree like they were caught on a breeze. The whole piece was bright watercolours, light blues and pinks and greens, with thick black brush stroke outlines, like the artist had splashed the ink onto her skin like a canvas. 

It was incredible, Lexa reminding Clarke of a Suicide Girl. 

 _You’re definitely a bad idea._  

Lexa took the steps at the shallow end, eyeing Clarke for the first time, as the water got deeper and deeper, moving over her hips. The water must have been a little cold, some inconvenient areas reacting to it.

Clarke tried to hide her smirk, Lexa having an exasperated look on her face as she dove down to get the ball. She resurfaced moments later, swimming over to the ledge and pulling herself out. She wiped the water from her eyes, before throwing the ball in the outdoor bin. 

Clarke was smiling softly at her, trying her best not to stare at the way the small droplets of water were gathering near the dip in her neck and sliding down her perfectly toned stomach. 

“Could I trouble you for a towel?” 

Clarke nodded once and moved to grab one from a cabinet near the guesthouse. She turned to hand it over, but Lexa had followed and was a lot closer than Clarke had expected, pulling her up short. 

“Here,” she offered thickly, holding out the white towel. Their sudden proximity brought the presence of Lexa’s perfume, making Clarke lightheaded. It was a mixture of citrus and vanilla, it gently clouding her and threatening to pull her further in. 

 _Bad idea._  

“Was that enjoyable for you?” Lexa asked, running the towel over her toned arms. 

Clarke smirked at that, still a little nervous, “Most definitely.” 

Lexa glared at her as she finished drying herself off, and began pulling her clothes back on. 

“You do know those balls are dissolvable, right?” Clarke mentioned offhand, leaning back against the cabinet. “You could have just left it there and the filter would have sucked it up in a few days.” 

“Of course they are. And you didn’t think to tell me before I jumped in?” 

“No. That thought didn’t really occur to me.” Clarke paused, her gaze wandering. “I may have been a little distracted.” 

Lexa’s cheeks redden at her flirting, eyes flitting away. “I should get back to work.” 

Her voice had grown shy as she handed the towel back. Lexa picked the pole back up from near her feet, and began unscrewing it to store it in the cabinet. Clarke watched her for a moment. 

“Lexa.” 

She hummed, letting Clarke know she was listening. Clarke took in a breath before she lost her nerve. “My mother left for a medical conference this morning in DC, so I’m having a few friends over.” She bit her lip nervously. “You should come.”

Lexa’s hands stilled, turning her head toward Clarke. She stayed crouched near the open pool cabinet, her eyes dragging over her. The intense gaze made Clarke feel suddenly self-conscious, threatening to break her resolve. 

“And why would I do that?”

It wasn’t said rudely. It was said almost like a challenge. 

“Well, there’ll be free food and beer,” Clarke ventured, taking a step closer and watching as Lexa stiffened. “And who knows, maybe you might see something…enjoyable.”

Lexa smirked at that. It reached her eyes, Clarke noticing they were now a shade of green.

“Saturday, seven o’clock.” 

“I never said yes.” 

“I know you didn’t,” Clarke hummed. 

She retreated back inside; feeling a jolt of electricity spark just under her ribs, knowing those eyes would be glued to her.

* * *

 

It was just a barbecue and drinks with a few of her friends. 

Raven, Octavia, Lincoln, Wells, and Miller were all over by the pool’s edge playing poker on the outdoor table setting. Loose money and chips were scattered over the varnished wood, her friends arguing, and laughing, and throwing cards at each other. 

Clarke smiled at their antics, standing by the open grill with Bellamy, a set of barbecue tongs in one hand and a beer in his other. She made light conversation with him, but she couldn’t help her eyes from wandering over to the side gate, or from looking at her watch, the minute hand inching toward the small golden seven. 

“She’ll show, Princess.” Bellamy gave her his lopsided grin, which quelled some of the butterflies that buzzed lightly in her stomach. She sipped at her beer, forcing herself not to stare at her watch. 

Clarke had told him about Lexa and the invitation, and she was met with a sly grin and reassuring words. Which was more than she could say for Raven and Octavia. They’d teased her endlessly, making her feel like she was back in middle school. Which wasn’t far from how she actually felt at the prospect of seeing Lexa again. It had only been two days, but already her skin was tingling and her heart was pounding at the thought of her. 

It wasn’t another minute before Bellamy was nodding and indicating toward the side entrance. “Told you.” 

Clarke tried to stop her smile stretching across her lips as Lexa walked over to them in a plain black singlet and denim shorts. Clarke noted the simple bikini strings visible behind her neck, grinning to herself. 

“Hey, you.” 

“Hello, Clarke.” 

“Hey, I’m Bellamy.” He offered her his hand, Lexa taking it in her own. “Octavia’s big brother.”

“Lexa,” she replied politely.

“I’ll introduce you,” Clarke smiled, taking her wrist gently in her fingers to lead her over to the table by the pool. Her skin was warm to the touch and so very soft. Lexa didn’t pull away, following closely behind her. 

Clarke released her grip as they reached the group of friends. “Guys, this is Lexa. Raven and Octavia you know.” Both girls nodded, their hands grasping their sets of cards. “And that’s Octavia’s boyfriend, Lincoln, and that’s Miller and Wells.”  

Lexa murmured a hello as they all greeted her, before returning to their game. Octavia had just won the hand, and was collecting her winnings gleefully from the centre of the table. After watching a moment, Lexa stepped closer and wordlessly plucked a 20 from Octavia's fingertips and handed it to Raven. 

“Hey, what are you doing?” Octavia exclaimed. “I won that hand fair and square.”

There was a heavy silence before Raven clicked a moment later, her mouth gaping open. “No shit.” She let out a loud bark of laughter as Lexa cocked her head in Octavia’s direction.  

“Wait, hold up,” Octavia slowed, a hand raised. “I need receipts.”

“She’s got receipts, Octavia.  _Trust me_.” Clarke said the last part in a hushed whisper, Octavia’s expression turning sullen. 

She slumped back in her chair. But Raven just stared at Clarke. She held that look Clarke had seen countless times over the course of their friendship. The one that said  _you’re so busted_ and  _we’re so talking about this_. Clarke just shook her head, knowing she’d be interrogated later for the details.

“Let’s get you a drink,” she murmured to Lexa. 

Lexa nodded, following Clarke back over to where Bellamy was still cooking the steaks. 

“What was that all about?” Clarke heard Wells ask. 

“I’ll tell you when you’re older, Wells,” Raven placated, pocketing the money into her jean short pocket.  

Clarke crouched in front of the open bar fridge, nestled under the countertop of the barbecue. “Is beer okay?”  

“Yeah, whatever’s good,” Lexa replied, leaning on the tiled counter beside her. 

Clarke used a bottle opener to take off the top and handed it to Lexa. She took a tentative sip, Clarke doing the same as they watched the poker game from afar.  

“So what  _was_  that about?” Bellamy edged, taking a sip of his own beer.  

“Excuse me?”

“Well if someone is squandering my sister out of rent money, I want it to be for a good cause.” 

Clarke shrugged, “Raven made an offhanded bet a few weeks ago, and was just collecting.” It seemed to be the right answer, Lexa looking back at her appreciatively. 

“Fair enough. And I don’t get to hear what it was?” 

Lexa kept silent, eyeing Bellamy over the top of her beer.

Bellamy just shook his head with a breathy laugh, before returning his attention to the grill. “I like this one, Princess.”

* * *

They sat by the pool, their legs in the water and hands barely touching between them.

Clarke ached just to reach out and run a finger over the back of Lexa’s hand, and over the cherry blossom tattoo that was now on full display mere inches from her. It was even more beautiful up close. The dark brush strokes, and the vivid pinks. 

“This is really beautiful.” 

It was said as a half whisper, a part of Clarke hoping Lexa hadn’t quite caught her words. But a blush had started to tinge Lexa’s cheeks, ducking her head and avoiding Clarke’s eye. 

“Thanks,” she murmured, her fingertips shifting even closer to Clarke’s on the rough pavers. 

They’d all finished dinner, the night well and truly dark, and the sky littered with stars. Music was playing softly on the outdoor sound system, mixing with the low buzz of the cicadas and the gentle crashing of the waves in the distance. 

It was kind of perfect. 

Bellamy and Wells were clearing away the plates and cleaning the grill, while Raven and Octavia were already swimming. Raven was laying back on an inflatable mattress, resting her leg as her fingers grazed the water, Octavia guiding her from below. Miller and Lincoln were both inside. Clarke could hear the two of them laughing and joking from the guesthouse, changing into their swim trunks. 

“So the pool thing,” Clarke ventured, cutting into their silence. “Is that something you want to do? Run your own business?”  

Lexa laughed lightly, and she shook her head. “I’m in my first year of grad school at California State, studying law.” She kept her eyes on Clarke as she spoke. “I was on scholarship for undergrad, but not anymore. Hence the pool cleaning. The business is my uncle’s. I also bartend a few nights a week.”  

“Law school,” Clarke praised. “That’s impressive.”  

Lexa gave a small lift of her shoulders. “I’d really like to work with juvenile cases. Become a public defender.” 

“That would explain the tattoo.” Lexa’s brow furrowed, Clarke indicating to her back. “Lady Justice?” 

Lexa nodded, her eyes softening. “What about you?” 

“I just have a small constellation of stars on my ribs under my right arm. It was my father’s favourite when I was a kid.”

Lexa’s lips turned up in the whisper of a smile, those eyes watching her carefully. “I meant what do you do, Clarke.” 

“Oh,” Clarke blushed, averting her gaze. “I’m an art major at UCLA. I’m only undergrad, though. It was something my dad had always encouraged.”

She stole a glance at Lexa. She was still looking at her with a keen interest. Lexa didn’t pry or ask any questions, and Clarke was thankful. “My mom would love to see me go into medicine, and I’m good at it. But I just-  _love_  art.”

Lexa nodded in understanding. “I’m a firm believer in doing something you’re passionate about, over something that’s just expected of you.” 

“And what is it that was expected of you, Lexa?” 

She was silent for a moment, before she lowered her voice to barely above a whisper, “I don’t think I want to scare you away just yet.”

Clarke’s eyes dropped briefly to those lips and back up. She didn’t mean for the movement to appear so obvious, but it was hard when Lexa was looking at her the way she was. Those green eyes like a low fire.

The moment suddenly felt charged with something. An electricity burned beneath her fingertips as Clarke edged forward, her hand brushing over soft skin. 

Lexa’s eyes seemed to darken, just as Clarke felt two strong hands grip under her arms. 

“Lincoln,” Clarke shrieked, panic clear in her voice. “Don’t you dare!”

But he only paused briefly, before cool blue water enveloped them both. It was better than any cold shower, the previous heat that coated her skin completely washing away in the wake of the pool.

Clarke was laughing to herself as she resurfaced, wiping the water from her eyes.

She stripped off her now soaked dress, putting it on the pool’s edge. It left her in her light blue bikini, Clarke adjusting it under the water to make sure she was adequately covered.  

Octavia was now sharing the inflatable mattress with Raven, floating gently past them, as Lexa stood and removed her singlet. 

Clarke just stared open mouthed, her eyes roaming over those impossible abs and perfect hipbones, before pausing on the partial tattoo that ran down her side.

“Dammit.”

“Damn is right, O. I think I might have just died a little,” Raven squeaked, floating up to Clarke. “You better get on that, Griffin. Or I will.”

Lincoln had paddled back over by this time, grinning widely. “You’re welcome.”

After removing her denim shorts, Lexa slowly lowered herself into the water, staying by the ledge. Those eyes just watched her, Clarke feeling the heat coming back over her skin despite the coolness of the water.

Clarke waded over to her, and away from her friends. “So are you having fun yet?”

“Well I’m yet to see anything enjoyable,” Lexa mused. “So, jury’s still out.” 

Clarke flicked water at her, Lexa dodging the small droplets with a smile that Clarke was beginning to realise she couldn’t resist. “There’s still time.” 

Lexa looked at her thoughtfully for a moment, before slowly pushing off the edge of the pool. Clarke’s breath caught, Lexa moving in closer to her. “It takes as long as it takes.”  

It was the second time that night that Clarke noticed her eyes move to those lips. She was only inches from her, Clarke feeling Lexa’s body heat radiating in the water between them. 

“You’re such a bad idea.” 

Clarke didn’t mean to for it slip out. It came as a breathless whisper from her lips, her eyes glued to green ones that sparked and darkened at her words. 

She felt the rush of water move against her skin, before soft fingertips traced her arms and down her sides, making Clarke shiver. Lexa’s lips edged towards hers, grazing her jaw in a barely their touch, before hot breath brushed past her ear. 

“You have no idea.” 

* * *

“I’ve never…gone skinny dipping.” 

“We could change that, Nate,” Raven winked, leaning back against Octavia on one of the deckchair. “Pool’s right there.” 

The small group of friends cheered lightly, Bellamy wolf whistling as everyone else took a sip from their drinks.

“Anything for you, Raven.” Miller blew her a kiss from his chair near the water’s edge. They all chuckled, eyes moving to Lincoln, who was sitting next to Miller in one of the outdoor cane loungers. 

They were playing  _I Never_ , the friends crowding the deckchairs, with some sitting on the pavers with a beer in hand. It had started as Raven’s shallow attempt at getting to know Lexa, Clarke staring daggers at her best friend through every invasive question. But it soon evolved into Octavia initiating the drinking game, calling everyone over, which was met with easy shrugs. 

It certainly wasn’t the first time they’d all played, but having Lexa sitting next to her on the pavers, their thighs touching and her hand itching to thread through long fingers, added a whole new level of nerves for Clarke – especially sharing her somewhat lengthy experiences with her new crush. The return of that intoxicating perfume wasn’t helping matters either. 

Lexa had promptly pulled away after their stolen moment in the pool, moving back to lean against the ledge. But those eyes had never left her, almost daring Clarke to close the distance again.  

Clarke had groaned softly, submerging herself in the water, before swimming over to where Bellamy and Wells were sitting by the pool steps; needing to create a tangible distance between them before she did something stupid.

 _“Still glad she showed, Princess?”_  

Clarke had merely huffed in response, stealing a sip of Bellamy’s beer, trying to rid the tingles left behind by that touch.  

 _“Ask me again in the morning.”_  

“Never have I ever, had sex in a public place,” Lincoln admitted, pulling Clarke back to the present. She watched as everyone bar Wells and Miller took a sip of their drink, Lexa taking her own mouthful from where she sat cross-legged next to her. 

“Really?” Bellamy questioned. 

“What can I say, I’m a simple guy.” 

“Is the backseat of a cab public?” Clarke asked, that one night still vivid in her mind. Of the soft touches and whispered words, her hands and lips lost to the girl she’d met only hours before.  

“I’d say so,” Miller shrugged. 

“Then I have.”  

“Get it, Griffin,” Raven jeered, leaning over to clink bottles with her. 

Clarke grinned, before looking at Lexa. “What was yours?” she whispered while the rest of the group settled. 

“Library stacks,” Lexa murmured back, a tiny smirk on those perfect lips. “Junior year of college.” 

The small up turn just made Clarke want to close the short distance between them. Something she’d wanted to do countless times during the night. And by the look of Lexa, those thoughts weren’t far from her mind either. It sent butterflies to Clarke's stomach, her fingertips tingling pleasantly. 

“I’ve never had a threesome,” Octavia provided.  

Clarke brought her beer to her lips with Raven and Bellamy, her eyes still on Lexa as she did. Lexa just shook her head lightly, her beer staying firmly in her grasp. 

“Dear god, please tell me it wasn’t the three of you?” Octavia blanched, a look of complete horror crossing her face. 

“Bell wishes,” Raven teased. “So do I a little,” she mumbled as an afterthought, earning a playful nudge from Octavia. Raven settled further back against her, eyeing Octavia over her shoulder. “Never have I ever been arrested.” 

Octavia groaned playfully, “I hate you.” 

Bellamy and Miller both cheered, taking a drink with Octavia, Lexa sipping her beer too in the process. 

“That was a good night,” Bellamy grinned, a far off look in his eyes. 

“Do I want to know?” Lexa asked them lightly, her gaze shifting between the three.

Raven just shook her head, laughing with them, as Octavia rested her chin on her shoulder.  

Clarke lowered her voice, “I’ll tell you later.” 

Lexa smiled softly at that, as images of that night came back to the forefront. They were all involved, but it was the three friends that took the fall for it. It was one of the better nights they’d had in their long years of friendship, Clarke laughing with them, deciding to drink as well for her sizeable part in it. 

“And do I want to know about yours?” Clarke asked, remembering Lexa took a sip as well.  

“I’ll tell you later,” she whispered back. It was her turn, Lexa deliberating for a moment. “Never have I Netflix and Chilled.” 

“Maybe someone here can fix that,” Octavia coughed, earning a hard look from Clarke as everyone took a drink. She swore her face had turned a shade of red, Octavia stifling her laughter. But Lexa didn’t comment, keeping her expression neutral, if a little flushed as well.

Clarke just shook her head and lifted her beer to the group, before her eyes settled on Bellamy, “I’ve never slept with someone more than 10 years older than me.”

Bellamy didn’t waste any time taking a drink from his spot on the other deckchair, Wells perched on the end of it. He shrugged, all eyes on him. “Older women are hot.” 

“Rey?” Clarke asked, as Raven took a sip as well. 

“Older woman are hot,” she agreed, raising her drink with Bellamy. “I mean, look at your mom for instance.” 

“Raven,” Clarke shut down. “That’s a  _hard_  no.” 

Raven just laughed, unfazed. It was a running joke between the two best friends, but it still made Clarke mentally cringe every time, knowing a part of Raven wasn’t entirely joking.

“You love it, Griffin.”

“Alright, alright," Wells quietened, Raven still grinning. "I’ve never gotten anything pierced.” He left it hanging, everyone moving to drink. “Somewhere that is  _not_  my face,” he finished, causing some to stop before they could take a sip. But Lincoln, Octavia, and Lexa continued to take their mouthfuls. 

Clarke looked at Lexa, brow raised, burning with curiosity. They all knew that Lincoln had one of his nipples pierced, and Octavia had a belly bar. But it was Raven that voiced it – of course it was Raven. “Is it still pierced?” 

“Took it out my second year of college,” Lexa told her evenly. “It was getting in the way.” 

“That’s all we get?” Raven implored, sitting forward. “No sordid details?”

“Well it wasn’t my navel, if that’s what you’re asking.”

Clarke flushed at Lexa’s bluntness. She took a large sip of her beer to counteract her suddenly dry mouth, and the heat that was spreading rapidly over her skin. 

 _Oh my god._  

Lexa leaned a little closer on the pavers, her voice a hushed whisper, “Do you still think I’m a bad idea?” 

Clarke swallowed hard. “Jury’s still out.” 

Lexa bit down, white teeth pressing gently into her bottom lip, turning that heat into an inferno. Clarke had to take another sip of her drink, giving her mouth something else to do besides crave the feeling of those lips on hers. 

“Well I for one have never had phone sex,” Bellamy confessed. Everyone took a sip of their beer except Wells, Clarke looking down her bottle at Lexa, her gaze not having left her. 

Lexa caught her eye, reading the questioning look etched on Clarke’s brow. “Long distance relationship.” 

Clarke felt a slight twinge at her admission. She didn’t expect it. Lexa was by no means hers. And for all she knew it was completely over. But it didn’t stop the ache that shot up her back and tingled at her fingertips at the sudden softening of Lexa’s features. Clarke knew all too well that feeling. Of how it lingered long after the other person had gone, and things had ended. 

But Clarke forced it away, along with her own memories, looking to Miller.

“Never have I ever fantasised about someone here.” 

Everyone groaned, taking a pull of his or her beer. Even Lexa. She did it casually, Clarke watching her with butterflies in her stomach, it washing away all traces of that previous ache. Lexa glanced at her, her expression unreadable. But those eyes held that fire from earlier in the pool. 

“It was so me, wasn’t it, Blake?” Raven grinned. 

Bellamy chuckled, “Of course, Reyes. Who else?”

“Well mine was your sister.” Raven accented her words by pressing her lips to the underside of Octavia’s jaw, earning her a giggle and a light shove. 

“Okay, Lincoln’s turn,” Octavia announced, a slight flush now on her cheeks. 

“Never have I ever done it in a pool.”

Only Bellamy and Clarke took sips. Lexa just watched Clarke in amusement, her eyebrows raised.

“Wait, the pool girl has never done it in a pool?” Octavia inquired after Lexa didn’t drink, her tone mocking. “Don’t mix business with pleasure?” 

“I just happen to know exactly what is in pool water,” Lexa replied evenly. “So that would be a no.” 

“Fair call,” Bellamy chuckled.

“Well, I got nothing,” Octavia sighed, taking a pull from her beer to forfeit her turn. 

Raven paused a moment. “Never have I ever been in love.” 

Clarke didn’t miss the way those eyes lingered on Octavia, or how Raven’s smile faltered for a moment when she took a drink, her attention on Lincoln.

Her stomach dropped a little for her best friend. Raven looked at her, smiling sadly with an almost non-existent shrug of her shoulder. Clarke returned it just as Octavia hugged Raven tighter, an arm circling her waist. 

Clarke dropped her eye, glancing next to her to see Lexa smiling softly to herself. The smile was so beautiful and private it had Clarke wanting to taste that smile for herself. Or more so, be the cause of it, that sudden realisation jolting her at its intensity. 

_Nope. Bad idea._

Clarke moved quickly to take her turn. Her eyes trained on Bellamy for the second time that night, taking enjoyment out of torturing the older Blake. “Never have I ever made a sex tape.”

Bellamy just shook his head, moving to drink. But before he took a sip, he narrowed his eyes at Clarke, “You have though, Griffin." 

“And  _kept it_ ,” she finished. 

“Gross, Bell,” Octavia chastised. Bellamy merely shrugged and finished off his beer, before cracking open another. 

“What is the point in making one, if you don’t intend to keep it?” Lexa asked Clarke, her brow raised and her tone light. Clarke felt her skin flush for the umpteenth time that night – Lexa was definitely learning more than Clarke bargained for with this game.

* * *

 

“You don’t have to do that, Lexa.” Clarke motioned to the empty bottles she was starting to gather from around the pool area. 

“I know.”

All Clarke’s friends had left in two cars with promises of lunch at the Pier the following day, Lincoln taking Octavia and Bellamy, while Wells drove Raven and Miller. It left Clarke and Lexa alone for the first time that night, and it was like it was three weeks ago, those nerves coming back.

Clarke busied herself with reposition the deckchairs and the loungers. Having her friends there as a buffer had kept her butterflies quelled and low in her stomach. But in their absence, they were back in full force, wrecking havoc inside her chest and down to her fingertips. 

They worked in silence, not taking long to collect the stray bottles and cups, and move the furniture back into place. It wasn’t an awkward silence, but all too soon they were finished, Lexa retrieving her car keys from the bowl on the kitchen counter. 

“I should go.” 

Clarke’s stomach sunk a little at those three little words, not wanting the night to end just yet. “Are you sure you’re okay to drive?” 

It was a weak argument; Clarke knew she was more or less sober. Lexa nodded, playing idly with her keys. “I only had a few.” 

Clarke just watched her, or more so her hands. The question she’d wanted to ask Lexa for the past hour was on the tip of her tongue. She knew she shouldn’t pry, but she didn’t think she could let her leave without knowing. 

“So are you still- I mean  _do_  you still…see them?” Lexa raised her eyebrows at the question, meeting her gaze. “The long distance thing.” 

Lexa nodded in understanding, “Her.” 

She was silent for a moment, her hip leaning against the kitchen counter. Lexa seemed to decide something, those green eyes roaming over Clarke’s features, before they moved down to her lips. 

It was a moment before Clarke’s breath caught in her throat. Lexa had stepped forward, fingertips brushing the back of her neck and her nose grazing Clarke's gently. It took all the breath that Clarke had, before she felt soft lips capture hers.

Her eyes fluttered closed, Clarke kissing her back, as her hands gripped the belt loops of Lexa’s shorts. Her lips were so soft, and tasted of something that Clarke just thought to be Lexa; like vanilla lip balm and something salty sweet. 

She pushed further into the kiss, wanting to taste more of it, changing the angle and deepening it with a swipe over Lexa’s bottom lip. Short nails scratched at the back of her neck as teeth grazed her tongue. 

Breathless, Lexa pulled away, still cupping her cheek with one hand. “Does that answer your question?” 

“Stay.” 

The word left Clarke’s lips as a breathless whisper, her forehead pressed against the side of Lexa’s cheek. Her hands were still gripping her hips, pulling Lexa against her and not letting go. 

Lexa took in a ragged breath through her nose, her jaw clenching, like her body was screaming at her to say yes. “We both know what happens if I do.” 

“That’s kinda the point,” Clarke laughed softly against her lips, capturing them again in a searing kiss. She took her bottom lip into her mouth, nipping playfully.

Lexa let out a low whimper, before pulling back again. Her dark eyes were completely blown wide, her fingertips digging further into the back of Clarke’s neck. It was as if her head was waging war with her heart.

Her eyes searched Clarke’s face for a moment, before she turned away. 

She didn’t move far, Clarke keeping her hold on her waist as Lexa grabbed a half empty beer sitting on the kitchen counter next to them. She brought it between them, her eyes turning shy.  

“Never have I ever slept with someone on the first date.” 

Clarke regarded her, loving how wistful and honest her voice had become, though a little surprised by the admission. 

She took the bottle from Lexa’s fingertips, taking a sip of the warm beer in a silent confession. She placed the bottle back down, licking her lips, “So this was a date, huh?”  

Lexa’s eyes softened, brushing Clarke’s fringe behind her ear. She leant down to kiss her again, this time soft and slow, Clarke tasting the answer in the press of her lips. Everything about the kiss just made Clarke want to melt, her knees going weak. 

“Goodnight, Clarke.” 

Clarke’s heart fluttered as she bit her bottom lip, unhooking her fingers from Lexa’s belt loops, butterflies exploding in her stomach.  

“Night. Drive safe.” 

Lexa took her keys, leaving Clarke alone in the kitchen.

She heard the door close behind Lexa with a soft click, as Clarke let out a breath, making a mental note to thank her mother for hiring a pool boy for the summer. 

* * *

 

Clarke awoke the next morning to her phone buzzing near her ear.

**[9:48 a.m.] Bell Blake: so, are we glad she showed?**

Clarke stared at the message for a moment, a smile stretching across her lips.

**[9:50 a.m.] Princess: …you have no idea**


	2. Part II

“So who was it?” Raven narrowed her eyes at Bellamy. He smirked back, ducking his head. “Someone we know?”

“I don’t kiss and tell, Reyes.”

“Okay,” she tutted gingerly, bringing her drink to her lips. “That sounds fake, but okay.”

“Please stop. I don’t  _ever_  want to know. I’m sure Clarke doesn’t either,” Octavia groaned. Lincoln chuckled lightly beside her and took another bite of his food.

Clarke watched her three friends banter with an easy shrug from the other side of the table. “Call me cautiously curious.”

“Imma find out,” Raven vowed. 

“Find out what?” 

Miller pulled up beside them, taking a seat next to Bellamy in the red vinyl booth they were sharing, and grabbed the menu in front of him. 

“Find out who the guy was that Bell slept with,” Raven provided, her eyes still on Bellamy; she looked as if she was trying to read his mind or burn a hole through the side of his head. 

Miller snorted. “Good luck with that. I don’t even know.” 

Raven appeared to let it drop, sitting back and throwing a French fry in her mouth. The six of them were at the Pier the following afternoon. It had been their stomping ground since freshman year of high school, the friends always taking the same corner booth and the staff knowing their orders by heart. 

They hadn’t long taken their spot and ordered food when Raven had started grilling the older Blake for details about the previous night. It was a seemingly harmless  _I Never_ question that had revealed Bellamy had slept with someone of the same sex. A question asked by Lincoln. And a question that had promptly ended the game as everyone around the circle stared wide-eyed, and one that sent Raven practically diving to the other deckchair in her haste to interrogate him. 

It wasn’t that it was all that shocking; most of them could have deduced as much from Bellamy’s clear lack of sexual preference. Clarke assumed it more the fact that in their long history of playing the drinking game that it had never once come up, lending her to believe it was a rather recent development. 

“So how’d things go with pool girl?” Octavia asked, pulling Clarke away from her burger.

Lincoln had settled a muscled arm around Octavia’s slight shoulders, pushing his empty plate away with his other hand. Clarke saw Raven’s eyes linger on the offending arm, her lips pressing into a tight smile. She hated seeing her best friend like that, but there was little Clarke could do if Raven didn’t want the help.

Clarke focused back on Octavia. “She has a name, you know.” 

“I know. But pool girl sounds vaguely dirty and descriptive at the same time. I’m sticking with it.” 

Clarke rolled her eyes. “It was fine.” 

“More than fine from what you told me,” Bellamy chuckled, happy that the focus of conversation had shifted. Clarke glared at him, elbowing him in the ribs. 

“We kissed. It was nice,” Clarke shrugged, trying to mask her smile. “That’s it.” 

“That’s never just it with you, Griffin,” Raven jeered, her eyebrows lifting.

Raven was right. Clarke never just kissed people. It was always more. It always went further. It ventured to touching, and teasing, and seemed to always end in someone’s bed or backseat. But with Lexa it felt different. And it wasn’t something she could ever say she’d experienced before. It sent her stomach into an array of butterflies, Clarke blushing at the thought of her and those amazing lips.

“Oh no.” 

“What?” Clarke blanched, looking across the table at her best friend. 

“I know that look,” Raven simpered. 

“What look?” Clarke exclaimed. “I don’t have a look, Raven.” 

“You are  _so_  screwed, my friend.” Raven grinned at her. 

Clarke heaved a sigh and buried her face in her hands; covering cheeks she was sure were now burning red. 

“So when are you seeing her again?” Octavia asked. 

“Thursday, I guess. When she’s at work.” 

That thought alone made the butterflies dance in her stomach and her flush run further down her neck. 

 _I’m so screwed._  

“Who knows, Princess. Maybe you can convince her to strip for you again,” Bellamy teased.

Raven wiggled her eyebrows opposite him.

“I so regret ever telling you two that.” 

* * *

The following days seemed to stretch. Clarke tried to occupy herself with her friends, taking a road trip up the coast and another down a hiking trail to the east of Newport. She also occupied herself in her room with her sketchbook. The once blank pages were now filled with cherry blossoms, and dark wild eyes, and only the beginnings of her summer project.

She had planned to spend the three blissful months with the sand, and the surf, and her friends. Taking trips and soaking up the sun. But those plans had seemingly changed overnight the moment her eyes had settled on Lexa across her pool. And now things all seemed so inevitable to Clarke. It had only been a month since they’d met, and already she couldn’t remember a time when she didn’t feel the delicious ache in her chest, and the tingling of her fingertips.

She was in her kitchen pouring herself a glass of orange juice when she spotted Lexa through the window on the Thursday morning. Her heart seemed to stop and start at the same time, those familiar kohl eyes and dark hair exactly as she remembered them.

Taking a generous sip, Clarke placed her glass down on the granite breakfast bar and wandered over to the open double doors to the pool area. She leant against the wooden frame, watching her work. Lexa already had the long metal pole submerged in the water, dragging it across the surface of the pool. The gliding movement accentuated the tight muscles in her biceps and shoulders that were on display beneath her loose singlet, a black Ramones logo plastered on the front.

Clarke bit her lip, her head resting against the doorframe.

Lexa must have sensed Clarke staring, those eyes flashing up to meet hers over the crystal clear water. Her answering smile was quiet, but perfect, Clarke straightening up and walking over to her across the dry sandstone.

She came to a stop in front of her, Clarke’s lips pulling at the edges. “Good morning.”

“Hello, Clarke,” Lexa nodded, her hands still gripping the long net. Lexa’s hold tightened as Clarke leaned in. But she whispered against wanting lips before they could touch, “Your mother.” 

Those green eyes darted over her shoulder briefly, Clarke groaning and halting her advances.

Cursing her mother’s sudden and inconvenient arrival in what was presumably the kitchen, Clarke took a step back. But Lexa gently grabbed her wrist before she could move far, Clarke’s heart skipping a little at the easy contact – her fingers were so soft.

Leaning the pole on her shoulder, Lexa pulled a simple black pen from her back pocket. And with that gentle smile, began writing on the inside of Clarke’s wrist. Clarke’s heart fluttered the whole time, realising once she’d finished that Lexa had written her phone number neatly down the inside of her arm.

Slipping the pen back into her pocket, Lexa let her grip go slack. “Don’t lose that.”

Clarke looked down at the small line of numbers with a smile of her own, “Smooth, Woods.”

Lexa merely smirked, lifting the net from her shoulder and getting back to work.

Resisting the burning and constant urge to kiss her, Clarke turned on her heel and made her way back inside.

Abby was indeed in the kitchen, taking a coffee pod from the capsule holder and popping it into the machine on the counter. Clarke placed a light kiss on her cheek on the way past, sitting down at the breakfast bar where she’d placed her juice only minutes earlier. 

“Morning, Mom.”

Clarke was surprised that her mother waited until her coffee had finished brewing and was safely in her travel mug before she opened her mouth.

“What’s going on there?” Abby asked, a certain edge to her voice. She sipped tentatively at her coffee, looking at Clarke over the plastic rim of her mug.

“Just making a new friend,” Clarke shrugged, hoping to convey the right amount of vague and nonchalance so the subject wouldn’t move any further.

Clarke picked up a bagel from the basket in front of her, keeping her eyes on the newly written ink on her arm and away from her mother’s knowing gaze. Her skin felt warm, still tingling from Lexa’s touch. 

“I think she’s got a little bit more than friendship on her mind.” 

Clarke suppressed a snort and an eye roll. “Maybe I do too.”

“Clarke.”

“I’m 22, Mom,” Clarke shot back, setting her with a stubborn gaze; one she’d perfected and inherited from her mother.

“21,” Abby clipped. 

She held a tight-lipped smile; Clarke could tell she wanted to lecture her. They both watched Lexa through the kitchen window, pouring some type of product into the pump. She was wearing her hair in her usual braids, and her loose band singlet showed off the side of her Lady Justice tattoo, the branches touching her ribs on her right side. 

“I’m sure she’s a lovely girl.”

“Mom.”

Abby sighed, giving in to her daughter. “Just promise me you’ll be careful?”

She collected her keys from the counter, kissing Clarke on the forehead before leaving the kitchen. But she paused in the tall archway, giving Clarke a departing look. 

“I’ll be careful, Mom.” Clarke gave her a small smile, pre-empting another warning word from her mother. 

Abby chuckled, nodding to herself before making her exit. Clarke heard the familiar dull click of the heavy front door, taking a calming breath and closing her eyes. 

“Are you certain of that?” 

Clarke didn’t have a chance to start, or for her heart to hit her throat as soft lips pressed to the back of her neck, and strong slender arms snaked around her middle. They brought with it that perfume, Clarke’s senses already swimming.

“Do you ever not eavesdrop on my conversations?” Clarke tutted. She bit her bottom lip at the feeling of those arms, sinking into the embrace. 

“It's not my fault, Clarke, that you are always talking about me.” 

“You just have unfortunate timing, is all. I had a lovely conversation about the weather the other day.” 

Clarke could feel those lips turn up in the hint of a smile against the back of her neck. “I just came to tell you I’ve finished for the day.” 

She felt her heart sink with those words. Clarke knew Lexa had other jobs to get to, but she wanted to be selfish. “When will I see you again?” 

“Whenever you want,” Lexa whispered, sending a shiver over Clarke’s skin. Her words were accented by the light touch of fingertips running over the black ink on her left wrist, and those lips once again pressing to the back of her neck. 

* * *

They messaged each other on a daily basis after that. It started off slow – a good morning message, followed by another later in the day. But it didn’t take long for it to evolve into a constant thrum of conversation, it only easing when Lexa was bartending or at her next job. And everything Clarke learned about Lexa just made her crave her even more. From her compassion and dry humour, to her selflessness and loyalty to her friends and her uncle.

“So should I be preparing the whipping sounds yet?”

Clarke looked up at Raven. The two girls were lying on her bed, magazines scattered around them. “Raven,” she deadpanned, her fingers hovering over the send button. “It’s not that bad.”

“Really?” she questioned with a raised brow. “The girl texts back within _seconds_. Has she never heard of the 10 minute rule?”

“Is that the same rule you use with Octavia?”

“I can’t read all of a sudden,” Raven mumbled, her eyes dropping to the magazine in her hands. “I don’t know.”

“That’s what I thought.”

It took a week before Lexa plucked up the courage to ask Clarke on a second date. They’d shared a stolen kiss or two while Lexa was working and they were out of the watchful eye of Abby, including a particularly heated one against the rendered brick wall of the guesthouse. But nothing more had happened. A fact that Raven had teased her endlessly about – like she could talk. 

Clarke was happy with the way things were, if a little sexually frustrated. But there were ways around that. Not that any of them were currently an option as she threaded her fingers through Lexa’s, the OC Fair lights shining around them in the shadow of the setting LA sun. 

“I wanna see those abs in action." 

Lexa just raised her eyebrows at Clarke, amusement touching her lips. They had walked past the High Striker, a small crowd milling at the bottom. Clarke laughed at Lexa’s expression, indicating for her to join the line. 

Lexa rolled her eyes, handing over a ticket to the attendant with a stoic set to her features. A built teen in a letterman jacket had just attempted the carnival game, not even lighting it up halfway. He huffed in exasperation, pushing past Lexa as he handed off the mallet. 

“You do know this is a game of accuracy and not muscle, right?” Lexa muttered, Clarke hearing the smugness creeping into her tone. 

“Enough talk, Woods,” Clarke stated, nudging her toward the platform. 

Lexa moved up to the plate, her open button-up rolled to her elbows. She had her braids tied back in a loose bun, showing off her black stretchers and the sharp angle of her jaw. Clarke tried her best to ignore the ache that the sight of her was sending all over her skin, clearing her throat and stepping back to give Lexa space. 

Lexa sent one last glance at Clarke, before swinging the hammer down in perfect momentum, the light rocketing to the top and setting off the alarm.

The small crowd applauded and whistled as Lexa strode back over to Clarke, her smile just as bright as the game lights that flashed and caught in her eyes.

“See. Accuracy.” 

Clarke would be lying if she said she wasn’t a little turned on by the display and the turn of Lexa’s lips after passing off the mallet.

To her credit, Lexa did attempt to hide her smugness, handing Clarke the stuffed giraffe that she’d picked, and followed her away from the crowd. But they hadn’t taken more than three steps when Clarke noticed a small boy, not older than five, watching the pair in awe from behind the metal gate that surrounded the carnival game. 

Moving forward, she crouched down to meet him at eye level. Clarke smiled warmly at him, “Here you go. You look like you need this more than I do.”

She passed off the newly won toy into his tiny arms, his mother smiling back appreciative. He hugged it close, his eyes lighting up and his voice squeaking out a hurried  _thank you_.

“You really are good at that, you know?” Lexa murmured, as the boy took off with his mother in tow.

“And what’s that?”

“Helping people.” 

“God, you sound like my mother,” Clarke retorted. 

Lexa chuckled, pressing her lips to Clarke’s ear as they made their way past the Ferris wheel and various food vendors. “I already told you, Clarke. My name is Lexa,” she stated, her tone serious. “But God will do.” 

Clarke shook her head with a grin, hip-checking her into a group of high schoolers. She had so many comebacks on the tip of her tongue, ones that would cause Lexa to blush, and for the urge to kiss her to burn brighter. But Clarke held them – as much as she’d love to see red tinge the soft skin of her neck and ears. 

 _“Lexa,”_  Clarke settled, looping an arm around Lexa's waist as they kept walking through the endless stalls and games.

Music pumped from the overhead speakers as they explored the fair, mixing with the elated screams and laughter heard from every corner. Kids and teens rode the tilt-a-whirl, as families sat at picnic tables eating cotton candy and hotdogs in the dusk heat.

It was perfect, and everything Clarke loved about LA. 

She laced her fingers with Lexa’s, earning her a soft smile. But it soon dropped when Clarke tugged them toward the haunted house attraction, a short line forming outside. The dark grey stone walls loomed over them, gargoyles and wrought iron gates decorating the tops of each towering spire. 

Lexa feigned reluctance, both of them joining the end of the queue. “Really, Clarke?” 

“Humour me.” 

“I think you just want to hear me scream.” 

Clarke moved to wrap her arms around her waist from behind, whispering hotly in her ear, “I don’t need a haunted house to make you scream, Lexa.” 

She could feel Lexa choke, and duck her head before she was able to compose herself. Clarke chuckled, resting her chin on Lexa’s shoulder, before biting down on it playfully through her button up. She could feel muscles retract and tense under her touch, and hips push further back into her. She knew her words and her teasing were driving Lexa crazy, but Clarke couldn’t help it. _Lexa_  drove her crazy. 

They shuffled forward, a deranged butler that was missing half his face greeting them as they passed through the stone arch entrance. “It’s not too late to turn back, Clarke.” 

“And where's the fun in that?” 

In all, Clarke had visited worse, only receiving two or three good scares throughout the whole multi-level house. But it was worth it to hear that laugh that threatened to break through Lexa’s stoic façade at every turn. It was so weightless and breathtaking. And it had Clarke wanting to be the only cause of it. 

 _So screwed._  

“You should come with me to my uncle’s place this Friday.” Clarke paused to glance at Lexa. She was concentrating on the fiberglass clown in front of her. “It’s just a small family gathering. I think you’d enjoy it.” 

It had been 30 minutes since they’d left the haunted house, flushed faced and smiling. They had a handful of prepaid tickets still leftover, the girls using them up on the smaller carnival games. 

“Wait, as in meet your family?” 

“I suppose, yes.” Lexa blindly placed another ball in its mouth, her eyes on Clarke. “I’ve met your mother. It’s only fair.”

“So should I hire the U-Haul now, or after the party?”

“Funny.” Lexa shook her head, dropping the ball she was holding back into the small bucket. She circled her arms around Clarke’s waist with an easy smile.

“I thought so, too.”

Gripping fistfuls of Lexa’s collar, Clarke pulled her closer and claimed her lips. She didn’t care who was watching, feeling Lexa kiss her back and nip her bottom lip playfully. 

“I’d love to,” Clarke hummed into the kiss. “Can I invite Raven and Octavia?” 

“Of course,” Lexa murmured, her arms still firmly around her. Clarke’s eyes strayed back to those lips, slightly swollen and so soft. 

“And should I expect anything…enjoyable to happen at this party?” Clarke whispered suggestively against those perfect full lips. She wasn’t being subtle, and from the blush that had crept up Lexa’s neck, she knew it too.

“Well from what I hear there’ll be free food and beer,” Lexa recalled, a small grin pinching at the corner of her mouth. “…and me.”

“Sounds like my kind of party.” 

* * *

Clarke was nervous.

She could feel that telling pull low in her belly, and the tingling over her skin. Ever since she and Lexa said goodnight outside the fair, anxious butterflies had began mixing with the excitement in her stomach at the prospect of being introduced to more of Lexa’s world – a world that she’d already grown so attached.

She’d messaged Raven and Octavia shortly after, receiving instant confirmations about the Friday night, but it had done nothing for the small bundle of nerves that fluttered beneath her ribs and danced over her skin.

“It’s not like you haven’t done the whole meet the parents thing before. You should be a pro by now.”

“Clarke? Meeting parents?” Octavia chuckled, popping her head over the couch to look at Wells. “That only happens if they catch her climbing out the window.”

“Thanks, O. Appreciate the support,” Clarke deadpanned, swallowing her mouthful of popcorn.

“You’re welcome,” Octavia grinned.

They were at Octavia and Bellamy’s apartment, Octavia on the couch with her brother playing NBA 2K, while Clarke was sitting on a stool at the breakfast bar.

Wells was standing the other side of the counter, trying to reassure her. He placed a calming hand on top of hers. It worked to a degree, that soft smile quelling the nerves somewhat. It had been that way since they were kids, his family living only a few blocks away from hers.

Their parents had met at some society event for the hospital, back when Jake was still with them. His father, Thelonious, was a California State senator, Wells helping him campaign this summer before he went back to North Western for college. But it was only after she’d met Raven, and then Bellamy freshman year that they really grew close. And now it was hard to imagine her life without him. He was her rock, the way that Raven and Bellamy were her everything else.

“You know what I think, Princess?” Bellamy called over the back of his couch.

“I’m sure you’re about to tell me,” she drawled, chewing on an un-popped kernel.

“That you like this girl. A lot,” he ventured, hitting pause on the game. “So it’s okay to be a little nervous. It just means it’s important to you. That _she’s_ important to you. Hell, I’m a little nervous with you.”

Clarke smiled widely at that, as Wells retracted his hand, her stomach settling to a low hum.

Bellamy resumed their game, his player throwing a three-pointer that bounced off the rim, Octavia taking the rebound. “Kinda wish I got an invite.”

“And why’s that?” Clarke enquired with quirk of her brow.

“Free beer, and the chance to see history in the making?” Bellamy voiced, mashing the controller with his thumb. “Wouldn’t want to miss that. Be sure to film it, O.”

“Kill me now.”

* * *

The week had passed quickly from there, Clarke finding herself on her couch in the living room the Friday afternoon.

Her Instagram was open in her hand, her thumb lazily scrolling through her feed. She’d seen Lexa the day before when she came to clean the pool, and just being with her again had her nerves completely dissipating. Lexa had greeted her with that smile, and it had Clarke almost forgetting where she was, let alone remembering to ever be nervous.

And if Lexa had noticed, she didn’t comment. Clarke had let her finish, Lexa storing her equipment away, before she’d pulled her into the guesthouse.

Clarke loved having a pool boy.

“-be right back.”

Clarke only caught the tail end of Octavia’s sentence, her words pulling her out of her thoughts. She looked to Raven, as Octavia disappeared up the stairs, hearing the dull click of the second floor bathroom door.

She’d caught Raven staring at Octavia moments earlier, but Clarke could tell there was something more. She always could.

“Do you want to talk about it?” 

Raven glanced at her and shook her head, silent for a tense breath. “It sucks, but I’m dealing with it.” 

The three of them were waiting for Lexa to arrive to lead them to Gus’ house later that evening, but as soon as the two girls had pulled up, Clarke could sense something was off. She’d been able to read Raven since middle school. Knowing when she needed to talk, and knowing when to back off and let it blow over. 

“You shouldn’t have to, Raven,” Clarke replied gently, leaning forward on the couch, her phone now forgotten. 

“Yeah, I do,” Raven smiled sadly. “She has Lincoln now. It’s better if I just let it go, for both our sakes.” 

“Are you sure about that?” 

Raven nodded, her eyes glassy. “Otherwise it’ll just be too hard to be around her.” 

“As if it isn’t already?”

Clarke wanted to say more, do more, wanted to help Raven. But Octavia used that moment to come back from the bathroom, Clarke hearing her footfalls on the polished staircase. “What are we talking about, losers?” 

“You,” Clarke jested without missing a beat, knowing it would cover both her and Raven even though it was the truth.

Octavia smirked at that and plopped down in Raven’s lap, her best friend emitting a light  _ouf_ sound. The smile that lit up Raven’s features as Octavia leaned into her erased any trace of her previous anguish, Clarke inwardly sighing at the implication.

She’d known about Raven’s feelings towards the younger Blake for months now, first noticing them at a house party back on their college campus. It was one of the first nights they’d been introduced to Lincoln, not long after the two had made it official. Clarke just wished she’d convinced Raven then to say something. But she kept her mouth shut, and Clarke had watched her best friend suffer because of it. 

The two girls were murmuring low to each other when a loud revving of an engine broke through their haze. Clarke could hear it clearly from the living room, the rev following the sharp backfire of an exhaust. 

“That’s not?” Octavia began, sitting up suddenly in Raven’s lap. 

“I think it is,” Raven laughed, her eyes darting to Clarke. 

The three of them got to their feet, grabbing their purses, and heading for the front door. After Clarke turned her key in the lock, she started up the driveway, not able to fight her smile. 

“Could your girlfriend be any more of a bad girl cliché?” Octavia murmured as they strode up the short drive. 

Lexa was waiting at the end of it, straddling a large motorbike. She’d parked it on the curb in front of Clarke’s letterbox, pulling off her helmet and letting her braids fall down her back.

And Clarke couldn’t do more than just stare. 

“Next thing you’ll tell us is she moonlights as a MMA fighter, or does kickboxing on her days off,” Octavia added under her breath, as they got closer. “Getting all broken and bruised just so you can patch her up.” 

“She surfs, actually,” Clarke replied, indignant. “And she’s not my girlfriend.” 

“Yet,” Raven quipped. 

Clarke ignored their teasing and wandered over to where Lexa was still straddling her bike. The other two girls hopped into Raven’s red Jeep that was sitting behind them on the side of the road, as Lexa watched her closely with the most quiet of smiles.

She greeted Clarke with a small raise of her chin, resting her helmet on her hip. Lexa was wearing a leather jacket pushed to her elbows and ripped skinny jeans that clung to her toned thighs. Clarke couldn’t deny how good she looked sitting astride the bike. It was all black metal, with the word _Jackel_  stamped in white on the tank behind her leg. 

“Of course you ride a motorbike.” Lexa shrugged her shoulders with that smile, Clarke leaning in and giving her a light kiss. “What happened to the truck?” 

“It’s my uncle’s,” Lexa replied evenly. “The motorbike is mine.” 

She tapped the tank lightly between her legs, before handing Clarke the spare helmet from where she’d had it clipped on the back. Clarke took it, turning it over in her hands while Lexa leant back to open a leather satchel near the back tire. 

Abby was going to kill her. Working as a trauma surgeon at one of LA’s leading hospitals, her mother saw the very real effects of road accidents on the daily, and had drilled it into Clarke about the dangers since she was old enough to listen.

But this was Lexa, and Clarke found her mother’s words drowning out as she straightened up in her seat. 

“You’ll need this too.” 

Lexa handed her a worn leather jacket not dissimilar to hers, Clarke fighting her smile again. Resting the helmet down on the rear seat, Clarke pulled it on, the material cool against her skin. It smelled of Lexa, like the ocean and vanilla, Clarke breathing her in. 

“Suits you,” she murmured, tugging playfully on the metal zipper. 

“Thanks. Though, I think Octavia might be a little jealous,” Clarke mused, her eyes on the passenger seat of Raven’s Jeep. Octavia was eyeing them with a narrowed gaze and a hard smile, Raven just sending her that knowing look.

Her eyes were still on her friends when Lexa suddenly pulled at her hips, Clarke stumbling a little before she could right herself. “Should we give her a show then?” 

Clarke let Lexa guide her, loving the feeling of those hands on her waist. Fingers dug gently into her hips as their noses brushed together, Lexa’s eyes burning low in the afternoon sun. 

“I meant of your bike, Casanova.” 

Lexa merely hummed, before Raven slammed her hand down on her horn. Clarke groaned, her head falling back as she flipped her off. But Lexa ignored Raven and the incessant honking, dipping her head to place an open mouth kiss on Clarke’s now exposed neck, right over her pulse. 

Clarke whimpered, heat rushing between her legs. Her heartbeat thrummed wildly beneath those soft lips. But all too soon Lexa was pulling back, and putting her helmet back on from where she’d left it resting on the handlebars. 

“We should really get going,” she urged, securing the strap under her chin. “I wouldn’t want to be late.” 

Clarke whined under her breath at the loss of contact, taking a calming breath that did nothing but spread the heat further. Pulling on her own helmet, Clarke climbed on the back, her now aching thighs pressed tightly to Lexa’s back. 

“That was just rude.” 

* * *

It took them nearly an hour to reach Lexa’s uncle’s from Newport Beach, Clarke revelling in the feeling of Lexa flush against her, and the light touches that she would brush over her arms when they were stuck in the late afternoon traffic.

Raven and Octavia had followed them closely, only losing sight of them on a couple of occasions. But his house wasn’t far from where Raven had grown up, Clarke remembering the streets from all the sleepovers she’d had during middle school before she’d moved closer to Newport for their junior and senior years.

It was a mid-size two-storey home, all wooden slats and light blue trimming. Clarke could smell the ocean as she swung her leg off the back of Lexa’s bike, the neighbourhood further up the coast from the cliffs of Newport. Countless surfboards and gear were lined up against the side gate and underneath the house, as the four of them walked past and into the party.

The shell of an old muscle car sat in the open carport, parts of the engine laid out on the pavement. Raven eyed it, running her fingers over the tarnished black paint. “Again. Either you lock that down, or I’m moving in,” Raven whispered, her eyes still on the car. 

“Get your own,” Clarke retorted in a hushed tone, her gaze flicking to Octavia who was a step behind them. 

“Low blow, Griffin.” 

The sun was just beginning to set, sending a bright orange glow over everything. The smell of charcoal and citronella candles scented the air, as fairy lights glowed dimly from the balcony and the branches of the surrounding trees. The house had a sizeable backyard and deck that extended out to overlook a garden nestled at the boundary line fence.

Clarke paused just at the edge of the garden path, her eyes wide. “ _This_  is small?” 

Lexa laughed, her eyes twinkling under the fairy lights. “Come on.” 

Clarke felt a strange sense of familiarity walking through the crowd of people, Lexa’s fingers threaded gently through hers. It felt like home – warm, and open, and inviting. People of all ages, kids and adults, young and old were scattered on the outdoor tables, and through to the kitchen. Lexa whispered introductions in Clarke’s ear, pointing out the people she worked with at the bar and a few that she’d met at California State, and those she grew up with from school.  
  
But all four stopped when a boy with messy blonde hair rushed Lexa. His skinny arms wrapped around her waist with an elated squeal, Clarke letting her hand go so Lexa could embrace him fully. He smiled and turned in Lexa’s arms just as a woman sauntered over to them with a beer in hand and an intense expression that Clarke couldn’t quite read.

“Clarke, this is Anya,” Lexa murmured, nodding to the woman. “She’s practically family. And this is her son, Aden.” Lexa placed both hands on his shoulders, the young boy tilting his chin and grinning up at her. 

“It’s nice to meet you both,” Clarke smiled. “These are my friends, R-”

“Raven,” her best friend blurted. Clarke watched as Raven practically stumbled over herself, her eyes on Anya. Next to her Octavia cleared her throat, Raven catching herself. “Oh, and this Octavia.”

Clarke noticed the way Anya’s gaze wandered over Raven a little more than would be considered socially acceptable, before turning back to Clarke. “You three look lost,” Anya stated, but it was said in jest, evident by the set of her lips. “Come to see how the other half live, have we?” 

“I’m the only loaded one, actually,” Clarke admitted with a cautious smile. 

“Yep, and we plan on taking full advantage until she cuts us off,” Raven smirked, her eyes still on Anya. 

“She’s our little princess,” Octavia added. 

“Princess?” Lexa raised her brow, whispering in Clarke’s ear.

“Bellamy and O coined it,” she shrugged. “It grows on you.”

From the corner of her eye, a large man in a black wife-beater scoffed at her under his breath, a look of annoyance and disgust on his face. Clarke sized him, pulling back from Lexa. “I’m sorry, have I done something to offend you?” 

The man sneered at her from across the table, “You don’t belong here, girl.” 

“Quint.” Lexa looked positively murderess, placing a protective hand on the small of Clarke’s back. Her jaw strained as she stared him down.

Quint just rolled his eyes, but he held his tongue. With a grunt he pushed back from the picnic table, getting up and heading inside to the overcrowded kitchen. 

“I’m sorry about him,” Lexa sighed, apologetic. “He’s not exactly trusting.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Clarke dismissed with a smile. She was used to the prejudgment surrounding her wealth. “I’ll be sure to leave my pearls at the door next time.”

Lexa laughed. And Clarke melted. Those eyes searched her features for a measureless moment, something akin to wonder painting the green she saw there, and suddenly it didn’t feel to Clarke like she was the only one who was screwed. 

“Come on, I’ll introduce you to Gus.”

* * *

Lexa’s Uncle Gustus was a mountain of a man. He was tattooed and broad, with sun-scarred skin, and thick dreadlocks that touched his lower back. But he was kind, his smile touching his dark eyes as he eclipsed Clarke’s hand with his own.

She sat with him at one of the large picnic tables on the back deck, his neighbour, Indra, sitting across from her as Gus tended to the barbecue. She was a strong woman, but she had a warm smile that she would show when Gus would tell a joke, or Anya would make a sarcastic comment at his expense. Clarke felt comfortable. This was Lexa’s family. And their carefree banter made Clarke crave something she wasn’t sure she’d ever had, or _would_  ever have again with her own.

“She’s lucky to have you, you know?” Gus told her in his deep rumbling tone after Lexa had excused herself. “It’s good to see her happy again.” 

Clarke didn’t know what to say, his words pulling her up short. She didn’t want to tell the man in front of her that she wasn’t exactly sure what she had with his niece, or that she wasn’t entirely sure Lexa did either – beyond the fact they were both happy. So Clarke settled for returning his smile and taking a sip of her beer. 

Her eyes strayed down to the backyard and to Lexa crouching in the grass. She was playing with Aden, his bright smile lighting up his whole face. She had her hands up, letting him spar with her, small fists colliding with her palms. 

Clarke could hear their laughter from her spot at the table, it singing out and mixing with the low chatter of conversation and the sweet hum of music. She loved how much of a kid Lexa was around him. Her smile. The relaxed set of her shoulders. Her wild eyes. It made Clarke’s heart flutter in her chest. She covered her smile by taking another sip of her beer. She rested her lips on the tip of the bottle, her eyes lost on Lexa. 

Clarke felt Octavia sit down next to her just as Lexa grabbed Aden around the neck, ruffling his hair when he lapsed his concentration, and pulling him to the ground. She could feel the unease coming off her friend in waves, Octavia staying silent as she gripped her beer bottle tightly in her hands. 

“Looks like Raven’s found a new friend,” Clarke said lightly, when Octavia made no attempt to start a conversation. 

“Yeah, looks like it.” 

Clarke could hear the strain in her voice, and saw the strong clench of her jaw as she spoke. Octavia’s eyes were glued to Raven sitting on a garden bench further down the backyard. She chatted easily with Anya, Clarke seeing those eyes light up with whatever they were discussing. Anya smiled, sipping the drink she had in her hand. 

Clarke couldn’t blame Raven. Anya was gorgeous. And even with Aden, she couldn’t have been more than 32, the age difference making Clarke smile. It was clear to Clarke from their earlier conversation that Raven saw no chance with Octavia. Clarke understood her need to try and move on. Or at the very least distract herself from the constant ache she had in her chest.

Raven was currently touching her leg brace with a shrug, Anya appearing to listen intently to her, one of her hands moving to brush one of the straps as well. 

“In some cultures they consider it rude to gawk.” 

“Pot calling the kettle black, Princess?” Octavia threw back, a little harsher than Clarke thinks she intended it. “And I’m not staring.” 

Clarke huffed out a sigh – Raven was going to kill her. “Are you two ever going to acknowledge the elephant in the room? He's getting lonely.” 

Octavia glanced at her from the corner of her eye, and then down to her drink, the label half torn off from her fidgeting. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Clarke.” 

“Come on, O. You can’t honestly be that blind.” 

Octavia stayed silent, chewing her bottom lip, her short nails picking further at the label. Clarke sat forward, speaking gently. “Raven is my best friend. I know her, better than most. And if you ask her to, she’ll bury it. She cares about you too much to let this come between you two.” 

Octavia swallowed heavily. Clarke didn’t think she was going to garner a response from her. But after a while she nodded her head, tears now coating her eyes and threatening to spill. The sight took Clarke by surprise. She wasn’t sure if it was the alcohol, or if the sight of Raven with someone else was confronting to Octavia for a whole different reason. 

Placing her hand on Octavia’s, she lowered her voice even further. “You know I love Lincoln. He’s a great guy,” Clarke soothed, sensing the clear confliction in Octavia. “But if there is chance that you feel something for Raven too, you should tell her.” 

Lexa chose that moment to sidle up beside them, wordlessly taking Clarke’s other hand. Clarke smiled up at her, getting to her feet, as Lexa pulled her gently backwards onto a makeshift dance floor that made up part of the deck. 

“Talk to her, O.” 

Octavia nodded with a teary smile, “Have fun.”

Clarke gave her one last reassuring look, before letting herself be led into the small mass of bodies that were already dancing to the music. It pumped out of a large stereo sitting under the kitchen sill on a hard plastic folding table. It was melodic, it caressing and bending through the crowd. 

“Everything okay?” Lexa murmured, concern touching her eyes. They were a shade of green and blue tonight, the surrounding fairy lights making them shine. She looped her arms around Clarke’s waist, pulling her gently against her. 

“It’s nothing,” Clarke smiled, her arms moving to the back of Lexa’s neck, her fingertips playing lightly with one of her braids. “Octavia and Raven are just-” 

“Into each other?” Lexa finished with a smirk. Clarke quirked her brow. “Raven really needs to work on her subtlety.” 

“I’ll be sure to mention that the next time I catch her pining,” Clarke jested.

“You weren’t exactly subtle either.”

“Excuse me?” 

“That first day.” There was a teasing glint to Lexa’s eyes as she led Clarke around the deck. “Then the week after that. And the week after  _that_ -”

Clarke pushed forward, pressing her lips firmly to Lexa’s, successfully cutting her off.

Lexa kissed her back, pulling her further against her, though Clarke could taste the smirk on her tongue. Fingertips tickled the exposed skin at the small of Clarke’s back, warm hands skirting under her loose top. She breathed Lexa in, Clarke completely lost in her and the thrum of her heartbeat under her fingers. 

And as Lexa tilted her chin up, capturing her lower lip, Clarke couldn’t help but think how crazy it was to feel so much for someone in such a short period of time. It had only been three weeks, and only six since they’d first met in her kitchen. 

But Clarke couldn’t quite remember a feeling before those lips, and she couldn’t quite remember why she ever thought the girl in her arms was nothing more than a bad idea. 

* * *

“It was the summer after we started college. We were bored one night, so we- _I_  decided that we should sneak into a drive-in after hours,” Clarke recalled, a distant smile touching her lips. “It was before Lincoln, and it was just the six of us. We’d gotten nearly an hour in when the cops showed up.” 

Clarke was quiet for a moment, her mind going back to that night all those years ago. Of how free and reckless they all used to be, and how little regard they held for the rules. She and Lexa had moved further down the backyard, away from the crowd. They’d grabbed a thick blanket, laying it on the damp grass beneath them, Clarke settling back against Lexa as those slender arms held her close. 

“We panicked when we heard the sirens and the lights, but Bellamy just told us to run. We didn’t think twice about looking back. Raven, Wells, and I managed to get away, but Octavia, Miller, and Bell weren’t so lucky.” 

“What movie?” Lexa’s voice was quiet in her ear. 

“Pacific Rim,” Clarke laughed lightly. “Wells told us he didn’t get to see it on the big screen, and Raven just couldn’t let that stand. She wired it so we could watch whatever we wanted.” She could hear the gentle release of air, feeling Lexa’s chest rumble with her soft laughter. “It's one of my favourite nights.” 

They were silent, nothing but the light buzz of insects and the distant murmur of conversation from the deck breaking into their quiet. Lexa leant her chin on Clarke’s shoulder, feeling her nose brush the side of her neck as Clarke sat nestled between her legs. 

“It was a bar fight,” Lexa murmured softly, barely above a whisper. “The guy was drunk and came onto Anya, and she wasn’t having it. I know I shouldn’t have stepped in. But I just remember seeing red.” She took in a strained breath, her lips pressing to Clarke’s shoulder for a moment. “The charges were dropped, but I still got a mark on my record for it, and he got a visit to the emergency room.” 

Clarke turned in her arms to watch Lexa carefully, her eyes searching her features. She saw pain and regret, tinged with sadness, Clarke cupping her cheek. “It was just always us against the world. Someone hurts one, it hurts us both.”

“I get that,” Clarke whispered back, dropping her hand to her lap. “It’s always been the six of us. Sometimes I miss it. We’re all still close, but it’s not the same.” Clarke’s gaze had hit the blanket beneath them, picking at a loose thread at the realisation of how much truth was in her words. “Miller has his boyfriend, and Octavia has Lincoln. Seems like we’ve all got boyfriends and girlfriends now, and we’re growing up and moving on.” 

There was a beat before Lexa shifted, Clarke feeling her lean in closer. Those lips brushed her cheek, Clarke shivering at the careful touch. “Say that again.”

Clarke turned to her, confused. The minute movement brought their lips in line. That low fire was in her eyes, Clarke searching them again before she clicked on what she’d said, and what Lexa so desperately wanted to hear again. 

Clarke smiled, it pulling at the edge of her lips. “Girlfriend.”

Lexa nodded slowly, their noses bumping and their mouths ghosting over each other’s in a barely there kiss. “I like the sound of that.”

A warm hand moved up to caress Clarke’s cheek; Lexa’s thumb brushing over her jaw before she closed the distance. 

The kiss was soft, but it left Clarke breathless, her fingers bunching in the blanket in an effort to keep control – although she would be oh so willing to lose it. If only Lexa would touch her- 

“I should take you home,” Lexa breathed against flushed lips. “It’s getting late.” 

Clarke tried to keep the low whimper from escaping at her quiet words. Her grip on the blanket tightened for moment, as the heat in her stomach pulsed hot and needy. But she nodded, pecking those lips once more before pulling back and getting to her feet. 

“Let me just tell Raven and Octavia. I’ll meet you out front.” 

It didn’t take long for Clarke to find them, having quickly scanned the deck and inside the kitchen, before venturing down the second floor hallway. It was less crowded in the late hour; people tapering off and calling it a night. It left those who would still be there come morning free to take up the picnic tables outside, their party just beginning. 

Passing several closed bedrooms, Clarke came to a stop in front of the bathroom door, tapping lightly when she heard the hushed voices of her two friends. Not waiting for a response, she edged it open gently, peering around the door. 

Octavia was only inches from Raven, resting her forehead against hers. Her expression seemed conflicted and almost pleading as her fingers toyed with Raven’s.

Clarke cleared her throat, Octavia’s eyes shooting up and taking a step back. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt.” 

“It’s fine.” Octavia wiped at her eyes, giving Clarke a weak smile. 

“Lexa's offered to take me home. You two okay if I take off?” 

“Yeah, of course,” Raven choked, taking a deep breath. “Text me when you get there.” 

Octavia agreed with a shaky nod, Clarke leaving them with a goodnight and a promise to message them both when she arrived – though something told her that separate messages wouldn’t be needed. 

Grabbing Lexa’s leather jacket from the hall closet, Clarke pulled it on and made her way to the front door. Lexa was already outside, leaning against her bike as Clarke approached her. 

“Ready?” 

“You know,” Clarke edged, stepping closer so she was standing between Lexa’s parted legs. “I could always stay.” Clarke had lost all subtlety, feeling the fire beneath her fingertips as she dragged them down Lexa’s bare forearms. Those hands were gripping her hips, kneading bare skin.

Green eyes closed as Clarke leant in. Her whole body ached to capture those lips and for Lexa to pull her closer – to touch her in the way she’d been craving since their first kiss.

But Lexa tilted her chin, ghosting past lips, and grazing along her jawline. Slow and painfully teasing. “Come on,” she beckoned. 

Clarke groaned, half wondering if it was possible to spontaneously combust from how flushed her skin felt, or from the fire in her belly that felt as if it was going to consume her.

 _I’m so, so screwed._  

Once they hit the main road, Clarke pulled herself tighter against Lexa’s back. She savoured the feeling – her softness, her perfume – knowing that she might not know them for a few days. She watched lights blur past, darkened street after darkened street, and breathed in the smell of the ocean. Her fingers were linked around Lexa’s stomach, muscles tensing and retracting with each turn. 

Somewhere along the way, Clarke let her eyes fall shut, losing herself to just the feeling of her. 

It took 15 minutes before Clarke realised they weren’t going back to Newport, missing the turn off for the Pacific Coast Highway. Her stomach dropped, her heart catching in her throat as they began to slow, pulling into an apartment complex down a quiet street. It was all faded brick and neat gardens, Lexa cutting the engine as she pulled into an available spot by the roadside. 

Lexa wordlessly took Clarke’s hand once she’d stored their helmets away, leading her through the front security gate after punching in the code. And Clarke couldn’t speak. Or ask questions. Or do any more than follow her up a set of cement steps and to the entrance of apartment  _32_. 

Clarke was suddenly so nervous, more so than she’d ever been with anyone else she’d been with. And she knew that meant something. Meant something more. But she was too scared to think too much on exactly what that was, or to put it into words. 

Closing the apartment door, Lexa led her into a room just off the short hall, the small unit shrouded in darkness except for the moonlight streaming through the open curtains. Clarke licked at her suddenly dry lips, watching Lexa flick on a nearby table lamp and sit down on the edge of her double bed. The way Lexa was looking at her, lips parted and eyes burning every inch of her, made it hard for Clarke to even breathe. 

Clarke moved towards her, taking off the leather jacket and letting it fall to the floor. She straddled strong thighs, Lexa’s hands coming up to pull against her hips, those lips ghosting over her collarbone.

Clarke shifted as her fingers brushed underneath Lexa’s jacket, sliding it off her shoulders and down her arms. 

“Roommate?” Clarke asked, her voice wavering. 

Her eyes were already lost on Lexa and the feeling of being on top of her. She could already feel the heat radiating off Lexa’s skin, and beneath her thighs, it clouding Clarke’s senses and making her want to lose control. 

“She’s staying at my uncle’s tonight.” 

Clarke was already breathless, her heart pounding in her ears. Fingers ran up her stomach, leaving fire in their wake as Lexa pulled Clarke’s loose top over her head, discarding it somewhere behind her. Those eyes racked over her for a moment, before Lexa dipped her head, nipping the soft skin just above black lace. 

Groaning, Clarke threaded her hands through Lexa’s braids, holding her against her, her hips grinding down. The girl beneath her had barely even touched her, but already Clarke felt close. Tugging gently on Lexa’s hair, she tilted her chin back and crashed their lips together in a searing kiss. Their tongue’s met, both holding back a moan at the feeling. It was like a sensory overload. Every touch was overwhelming, and left Clarke’s skin burning and wanting for more – more pressure, more friction, more of everything that was Lexa.

Hands cupped cheeks and the back of necks, as Lexa’s fingers drew patterns underneath Clarke’s bra strap that she deftly unhooked, before scratching short nails down her back. Clarke arched into her, letting the garment fall down her arms before it joined the growing pile on the floor.

It didn’t take long for Lexa’s shirt to be discarded as well, and for zippers to be pulled down, and for hands to be daring to move further. Clarke traced her fingers over those amazing tattoos, as if she were memorising them for later. Over thick black brush strokes, and down tree branches, and over vivid watercolours. Lexa’s lips moved achingly slow to Clarke’s neck as she did, pausing at her jaw, her hand moving below the waistband of denim shorts that had been pulled part way down her thighs.

Clarke dug her nails into the back of Lexa’s neck as perfect fingers pushed past the stubborn material, softly brushing her clit beneath her underwear. Clarke pulled her even closer as she let out a breathy moan, those fingers circling wet heat and driving her crazy. 

“ _Please_.” It was a breathless kind of begging, Clarke needing her. Needing to feel her. Needing to fall. But also not wanting it to ever end. She clenched her thighs around Lexa’s hips, coaxing her further. 

Lexa complied, sliding a finger inside her, before pulling out and adding another. Clarke groaned, seeking out her lips once again to stifle the noises that were escaping. Her head was swimming, Clarke unable to concentrate on anything but those fingers, and the lips that were pushing her toward the edge. 

Lexa slowly started a rhythm that Clarke matched, rocking her hips down and seeing stars. And when Clarke came with Lexa’s name on her lips, something fell into place. 

And later when long fingers where buried in Clarke’s hair, a tattooed thigh wrapped tightly around her shoulder, she finally gave words to the thrumming in her chest, and the tingling in her stomach. Words that she wasn’t sure she was ready to speak, or share. 

Words that sounded an awful lot like _I could love you_. 

* * *

**[1:43 a.m.] Rey Reyes: …Earth to Griffin? You still alive?**

Clarke chuckled lightly at the text, her eyes heavy as she read the short message. It was nearing 4.30 a.m., the dawn light outside sending a shade of blue over the apartment walls. She quickly typed out a response, hitting send. 

 **[4:26 a.m.] Griffin: I’m safe, don’t worry. Go back to sleep. Xx**  

She placed her phone back on the nightstand, rolling over in the mess of sheets to be meet with a sleepy smile and hands pulling her closer. 

Clarke hadn’t had a chance to see Lexa’s place the night before. But with the sun just beginning to rise she could see it more clearly. Her room was neat, with a surfboard resting in the corner next to her closet, and a desk with a bookshelf stocked full of law textbooks. But there wasn’t much else. It was minimal, and so very Lexa. 

“Who was that?” Lexa’s voice was scratchy, and hushed – like she didn’t want her words to break whatever it was that hung between them. 

“Just Raven,” Clarke smiled. “I promised I’d text her when I got home safe. But I’ve been a little…distracted.” 

“Oh?” Lexa feigned innocence, repositioning her cheek where it rested on the back of her hand. 

“And  _somebody_  never took me home last night like she said she would,” she accused lightly. Clarke leant forward and pressed kiss after soft kiss to bruised lips. 

“Who said I was taking you back to Newport?” 

Clarke paused her assault to answer. But she caught her tongue around her retort, her eyes widening. 

“I only said I was taking you home. I never specified to whose.” 

Lexa smirked, stroking a finger over Clarke’s bare shoulder. And Clarke was speechless at her words, clearly catching her by surprise. 

“Smooth,” Clarke breathed. 

“I thought so, too.” 

Clarke reached out a hand, claiming those lips in a deep kiss. It was lazy and everything a kiss should be on a Saturday morning, Clarke’s fingers brushing Lexa’s hip and tracing up her side. She was so content, Clarke thinking she could probably kiss those lips forever and it be enough. 

Her phone started buzzing incessantly, vibrating on the nightstand and breaking into their quiet moment. Clarke laughed into the kiss, knowing the string of messages Raven would be sending at her admittedly vague response. 

“You’re not going to answer that?” Lexa murmured against her lips after Clarke made no attempt to pull away. 

She shook her head softly, edging her body closer to Lexa so they were almost flush. Clarke could feel the heat of Lexa’s skin and her chest graze her stomach. She leant her forehead into her, Lexa pressing her lips to Clarke’s chin. Their touches were soft, and lingering, and perfect. 

“So where were we?” Lexa hummed.

“You were telling me about Gus.” Clarke brushed her nose with Lexa’s lovingly. She couldn’t remember a time when she was this happy. Everything seemed dimmed in comparison, or her mind had just blocked out anything that wasn’t Lexa. Everything that was outside the four walls and the mess of bed sheets that pooled around their waists, offering bare skin to the growing morning. 

Lexa closed her eyes. Clarke wasn’t sure if it was a reaction to her soft touch, or if something had flashed behind those eyes – a memory, or a moment. So Clarke waited for Lexa’s shoulders to relax, and for her breathing to resume. “He and my father were estranged since they were teenagers. So he didn’t even know I existed until I was 16.” Lexa smiled sadly, her clear green eyes fluttering open. They were heavy, and oh so deep. Lost even. “After my mom died I went into the system. It’s where I met Anya. She was a bit older than I was, but even after she left, she still came and visited every week. She’s been like a sister to me ever since.” 

“Is that what you meant when you said you didn’t want to scare me off?” 

Lexa pursed her lips, before pressing a kiss to Clarke’s shoulder, her nod short and quiet. “Nobody thought I would amount to anything. I’d probably be in jail right now if it wasn’t for Gus or An.” 

Clarke didn’t interrupt, just watching her with caring eyes and loving touches. 

“I was no one, Clarke.” There was barely an inch between them, Clarke feeling each word breathed into her skin. “Scared yet?” 

Clarke didn’t pause, shaking her head, the movement bumping their noses. Clarke’s fingers brushed her hip, her strokes soothing as they ran over every available inch within reach. Slow circles gave way to long grazes, and fingers nails scratching down her back and over inked skin. 

They were just quiet. But Clarke could feel the question on flushed lips; Lexa's eyes not quiet meeting her. “Do you still think I’m a bad idea?” 

The teasing had gone from her voice, and she just sounded so vulnerable. Clarke couldn’t stand that voice, closing the minute gap and kissing away the hesitation and the doubt. 

“No.” Her voice was low, and honest. “Actually starting to think you might be the best thing to ever happen to me.” 

“I am?” Lexa still sounded guarded, like she didn’t want to allow her heart to believe it. 

Clarke hummed in response, shifting so she could settle between Lexa’s legs. They parted, Clarke’s skin alight at the contact and the feeling of her girlfriend’s bare skin pressed against her. 

Pecking her lips softly, nerves exploded in her stomach, and spread to her heart and her skin from what she was about to say. “Actually starting to think I might be falling for you.” 

Lexa’s eyes widened at the gentle confession, Clarke supporting her weight on her elbows, her hands tucked underneath slender shoulders. “And does that scare you?” 

Lexa’s voice was soft and breathless, and Clarke couldn't stop the words from slipping free. 

“You have no idea.”

Her eyes searched Lexa, those small fires moving from Clarke’s lips to her eyes, and back down. 

“…I think I might.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Clarke and Lexa’s story will continue within the Octavia and Raven story in part two of this series. It follows Raven and them both coming to terms with their feelings for each other.
> 
> There will also be a part three (Clarke/Lexa) and a part four (both Clarke and Raven).
> 
> Come say hi: hedabecca.tumblr.com


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